The Boy and the Mutt
by atetheredmind
Summary: When Katniss finds it increasingly impossible to perform as the Mockingjay during the rebellion, the unscrupulous Coin takes drastic measures to bring Peeta back to her. But Katniss soon learns there's something not quite write with this Peeta.
1. Chapter 1

_Written for Prompts in Panem Day 2 (Sin prompt: Greed). Part I of II._

* * *

When Katniss opens her eyes, she knows immediately that she must have fallen asleep while crying: her eyes are heavy and swollen, grit making it hard to see.

But it doesn't shroud the sight of Haymitch's scowl when she rolls over in her bed. Despite her grogginess, she frowns reflexively.

"Morning, sweetheart. Have a good nap?"

The previous events come flooding back to her then, and she curls up farther under the sheets, burrowing her face into her pillow. It's the stiff, anesthetic-scented sheets of the District 13 hospital. They must have moved her in here after her breakdown over Peeta during her latest propo video. No amount of consolation from Haymitch could subdue her hysterical sobbing once she realized the torture he must be enduring in the Capitol for her sake, and they eventually injected her with some sedative to knock her out. Her muscles already ache from disuse; she wonders how long they kept her out for.

She decides to ask.

"How long was I asleep?" Her voice is gravelly and weak.

"Three days."

She's surprised by this, and she tries to blink the sleep from her eyes. "Why...so long?"

Haymitch leans back in his chair, scratching at the graying scruff on his chin. "Dunno. Guess they wanted to keep you out of commission so you'd be as little of a distraction as possible."

"Distraction from what?" she asks, though she's not sure she cares. If Coin and the others wanted her out of the way, she was fine with that; she didn't have the energy to play the Mockingjay and pretend things were fine. They weren't fine.

At that, Haymitch finally smiles wryly, but there's a latent bitterness behind his eyes. "Rescue mission to the Capitol. They went to retrieve Peeta, specifically for you. I think they were tired of your whinin'. I know I was," he says drily, but she ignores the jab, struggling to sit up in bed.

"Rescue—Peeta?" she gasps, her arms trembling slightly as she pushes her weight off the mattress. Her heart starts to race, and it throbs almost painfully against her sternum. "Why didn't—why didn't they let me go? I could have helped!"

He snorts. "What would you have done? Cried on Snow's pretty white blazer?" He waves a hand dismissively. "Coin never would have agreed to let you go. Hell, she wouldn't let _any _of us go," he grouses. Katniss frowns.

"What do you mean? Who else?"

"Me. Gale. Finnick. They were the first to volunteer, but she refused. Didn't want to risk her star assets or some such bullshit. It was Boggs' idea, but she told him to stay behind, too. I don't even know the soldiers she sent on the mission. A bunch of ass-kissing bootlickers, I'm sure."

Katniss is barely listening anymore. Blood rushes in her ears. For the first time in weeks, she feels...hope? She tries to swallow the foreign feeling, her stomach twisting with nerves. She finally looks at Haymitch again. "D'you...do you think they'll succeed?" She's afraid to even think it, to fantasize about the idea that, in a matter of days or hours even, she could have Peeta back…

But Haymitch sighs heavily. "Guess we'll find out, sweetheart."

She doesn't leave her bed after that point while she waits for news on the rescue; Finnick joins her, and they spend hours distracting themselves with rope, tying knots and unraveling them. He's worried about Annie, too. Gale sits with them for a little bit, simmering with resentment that Coin refused him on the rescue team, but he knows he can offer them little in the way of comfort so he eventually slinks away. It's not his loved ones, after all. Katniss and Finnick barely speak, even to each other, and she isn't sure how much time passes before Haymitch finally bursts through the door. The two of them immediately turn to him, the question scrawled on their faces. The older man looks troubled, and her stomach sinks.

"Did they—?" She can't finish the question, unsure of what to ask first.

But Haymitch nods. "Plutarch informed me they were back. They got Peeta."

Katniss can barely breathe with the way her heart lodges itself in her throat. He's safe; Peeta is safe, and he's here in District 13. With her. A maniacal grin splits her face in two, but it falls immediately when Finnick asks the next question.

"And Annie?"

Haymitch's face is grim, and he shakes his head. "They said they only got Peeta. Something went wrong on the mission, and they had to abort," he explains quietly.

Katniss thinks she actually sees Finnick's heart break. For a moment, she forgets her own happiness and relief. "Oh, Finnick—" But he shakes his head, forcing a small smile in place. It doesn't match his eyes.

"Don't worry about me, Katniss. Go to him."

With one last look at him, she crawls off the bed and follows Haymitch out the door, wobbling slightly, but he grips her arm to help her. She's grateful he's there to guide her because she's not sure she'd make it on her own; her knees feel weak already, her head light from the rush of excitement and anxiety. What kind of state will she find him in? Is he hurt? Sick? Near death? Will he be happy to see her? Will he be angry that she was rescued and he wasn't? What if he refuses to speak to her?

She pushes the thought away immediately. Peeta wouldn't reject her, no matter what. He'll be so relieved to see her. Her cheeks start to hurt from the smile she can't fight as she imagines running into his arm. Will he greet her with a kiss? Will it be like the last one on the beach? She's already tingling with anticipation when Haymitch steers her into another hospital room a few hallways down from her own. A few nurses and doctors surround the bed, blocking Peeta from her view, and she feels a flash of irritation that they're standing in her way.

But the crowd parts at her arrival, silence falling among the hospital staff, and Katniss stops breathing.

It's Peeta, all pale skin and blonde curls. He's beautiful, even more beautiful than she remembers; he looks healthier somehow, healthier than in his last disheveled appearance with Caesar, but she thinks she must just be that excited to see him. Of course, he would look more perfect to her than usual; it's been weeks, _months _almost.

His blue eyes are foggy, and he sits on the edge of the bed, dazed as he takes in his surroundings. She stands frozen in the doorway, but when he finally turns his gaze on her, she practically buckles. "Peeta," she breathes out; he blinks, once, twice, an opaque blankness filming his eyes until it gives way to recognition.

"Katniss," he whispers, and she releases a sob before lunging across the room, throwing herself into his arms. He catches her, unsteadily, but he folds her into his embrace, and her lips are on his face, finding purchase on any exposed skin she can. She can hear the relieved, amused murmurings of the hospital staff around them, but she can't be bothered with their presence. Peeta murmurs her name against her cheeks, her forehead, her lips, as if he's reciting a prayer, and soon she's crying and hiccuping with delirium. She can feel and taste his own salty tears, but then he's laughing and squeezing her. Their limbs are so tangled together, the doctors have to practically extricate her from his lap; she resists at first, her jagged fingernails nicking their hands and necks as she lashes out, but they eventually assure her they just need to run some more tests on Peeta. It isn't until he soothingly kisses her forehead, as if sealing his return to her, that she releases him.

Still, she refuses to leave the room.

"Get me a chair. I'm not going anywhere," she snarls. The nurses share conspiratorial glances with each other, but one pushes a chair up next to Peeta's bed, where Katniss proceeds to curl up, her eyes glued to the prostrate form of the boy before her while the doctors check his eyes, his blood pressure, the rest of his body.

He is surprisingly free of any marks or wounds or any physical evidence of his imprisonment in the Capitol. Katniss is amazed but grateful he was spared. She can only hope the same for Annie and Johanna, but she doesn't dwell long on the thought. Peeta keeps his eyes trained on her as the doctors examine him, an awed smile gracing his lips; she doesn't look away, even when Haymitch clears his throat and offers some mumbled greeting and apology to Peeta.

Peeta is confused by the other man's words. "Sorry for what?"

Katniss shoots Haymitch a dirty look. _Sorry for abandoning you; for lying to you and reneging on our deal to protect the girl_—that's what he should say, but Haymitch clamps up.

"We'll talk later, kid. Just...take it easy for now," he says, a peculiar tone to his command, but then he slips away.

Eventually, the doctors and nurses do, too, and Katniss is allowed to climb into bed with him—though, she's not so much _allowed _as she just doesn't bother asking for permission. Peeta welcomes her readily, but they don't speak for a while. She can tell he's exhausted and weak. Finally, she can't hold her tongue anymore.

"Peeta," she whispers quietly above the humming of the machines he's hooked up to. She hesitates but blurts out the rest of her query haltingly, "What did they do to you...in the Capitol?"

Peeta's hand tightens around her arm, and she hears him take a deep breath before exhaling loudly. He waits a moment to answer, and even before he speaks, she can feel his palpable confusion.

"I can't...remember."

* * *

It soon becomes clear that Peeta can't recall any of his time in the Capitol after he was captured. The doctors call it retrograde amnesia.

"It's likely the trauma from his time in imprisonment caused some memory loss; his brain could be blocking out his experiences in the Capitol," her mother explains to her quietly one night in their compartment when Katniss is forced away from Peeta's side so he can rest, or so the doctors tell her. Mrs. Everdeen is quiet for a moment before adding, "It's probably a good thing he can't remember, if it was that bad."

Katniss shudders in her bed at the thought. She decides not to push Peeta on it.

But she can't help thinking, and wondering. During her visits, when she lies beside him as he sleeps, she can't resist looking him over, gingerly running her hands over the planes of his body under his clothes, looking for any sign of his imprisonment. All she finds is smooth skin and light downy hair and the metallic of his prosthetic leg; even all his baking scars are gone, polished away by the Capitol prior to the last games. He's perfect, absolutely perfect.

She doesn't understand it, but she's grateful, grateful he didn't have to suffer more than he already has.

She holds him tighter while he sleeps, listening to his even breaths, echoed by the staccato rhythm of his heart in her ear beating out a comforting mantra: _He's __**safe**__, he's __**safe**__, he's __**safe**__._

* * *

Coin only waits two days before visiting Katniss and Peeta in the hospital. She's upheld her end of the bargain in retrieving Peeta; now she expects Katniss to do the same.

As much as she dislikes the woman, Katniss knows she owes her. And she doesn't like owing people. The sooner she can wipe out the red from her ledger, the better. She's almost happy to continue making the propos at this point. She feels revitalized with Peeta's return.

"What do you need me to do?" she asks, still guarded despite her acquiescence. Coin fixes her with a pleased look.

"We'll finish the propo you started filming with Soldier Hawthorne and Soldier Odair, prior to your...episode."

Katniss nods. "Peeta will come too, right?"

Coin's face hardens, and she shakes her head. "No. Patient Mellark is not fit for duty at this point in time."

Katniss is already scowling, leaning forward in her chair next to Peeta's bed. "But—"

Coin doesn't let her finish. "It's not up for discussion, Soldier Everdeen. You're needed in the field, but Mellark needs to rest. We don't want to risk overexerting him already."

Katniss wants to argue further, but she risks a glance at Peeta, which is her undoing. He shrugs, a small smile in place. "It's okay, Katniss. I feel fine, but...she's probably right. Do what you need to do. I'm not going anywhere." He's almost teasing her, a glint in his eye. She's hesitant to leave him—what if something happens to him while she's away? what if she loses him again?—but she knows she has no choice.

"You better not," she warns, leaning over his bed to hug him. She wants to kiss him, but she can feel Coin's watchful eye, so she pulls away, gazing at Peeta one last time before she follows the older woman out of the room.

She hasn't seen Gale since Peeta's return; she knows he's been avoiding her, but she hasn't really wanted to talk to him either, if she's being honest with herself. She's entirely wrapped up in Peeta, and he just doesn't understand. She's glad the war can keep him busy; it's a good outlet for his rage. She's feeling a lot less of that these days.

She feels a million miles away as they walk through the bombed-out remains of the surface above District 13, the camera crew trailing them. Finnick hangs back, sensing the two need a moment.

"How's Peeta?" Gale asks finally, his voice quiet. She shrugs but doesn't look at him.

"Fine, I guess," she replies hesitantly, but then she adds, "You can talk to him if you want. I'm sure he wouldn't mind a visitor."

Gale snorts, shaking his head. "I doubt that," he mumbles. "I'm not sure he'd like to hear how I was unable to save his family in the bombing back home."

Katniss freezes then, an iciness settling in her stomach. "Oh, no," she whispers, turning to him. How could she forget? "He doesn't—I don't think he knows yet. About—about home, about his family."

Gale looks shocked by this, stunned into silence. "Shit," he finally whispers, and she covers her face, suddenly feeling exposed under the cameras trained on her. How is she going to tell him? No one else has yet, she has to assume; Peeta hasn't mentioned it at all.

They wrap up their filming after an hour; Katniss is too distracted by thoughts of Peeta, dreading having to inform him about his family, and Cressida finally concedes defeat on getting anything worthwhile from her for the propo. The elevator ride back underground feels like an eternity, and she returns to his hospital room immediately. He looks happy to see her, but his face falls when he takes in her expression.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? What happened?" he fires off, making to get out of his bed, but she waves him back down, moving closer.

"Peeta…" she murmurs nervously. "I don't...I don't know how to tell you this. I don't know if anyone's told you yet but...after, after the arena—after I blew it up, Snow...he sent bombs to District 12. It's...gone. The entire town." She swallows thickly, watching his face. "You...your family, they...they didn't make it."

Peeta blinks, sitting down heavily on his bed. His face is pale but mostly expressionless as he digests the news. "They're...dead?" he asks hollowly. She covers her mouth but nods, trapping her apology behind her lips. It's her fault they're dead, ultimately; she blew the forcefield, earning Snow's wrath. But her neighbors and friends and even strangers paid the price for her defiance. "Why didn't...no one said anything…"

He falls silent for a while, his eyes trained on the stiff white sheets of his bed. Eventually, she sits down beside him, scared to stir him. But if he's mad at her, she deserves it. Still, he doesn't speak. "Say something," she urges, her voice shaking.

"I…" He struggles with his words. "I don't...I don't know what to say," he says, finally looking up at her. His eyes are swimming, but he's not crying. He looks lost. "I don't know what I feel. I feel numb."

She curls herself around him, and he releases a heavy exhale, burying his face against her shoulder. "I'm sorry," she finally chokes out, feeling him wrap his arms around her. "I'm so sorry, Peeta. It's my fault."

He doesn't speak again for a while after that point. She isn't sure who's trembling worse in that moment.

* * *

Eventually, Peeta is allowed to integrate back into civilian life; with no family left, he is assigned a room by himself. Katniss frets over him, worried about him being alone, but he just laughs off her concerns. "I'll be okay, Katniss," he assures her, unpacking the minimal items he is afforded—the standard-issue gray pants and shirts, the basic, necessary toiletries. "I was alone in Victor's Village for nearly a year, after all."

Which is true, but the questioning lilt to his voice, as if he's not quite sure of what he's saying, bothers her. Maybe he's not as okay with the idea as he wants her to believe.

"I can stay with you at night," she offers, blushing almost immediately. A matching rosiness fills his cheeks, too. Of course, she meant it innocently, but...now that she's thinking about it...She recalls their last kiss on the beach, the delicious warmth that had pooled in her gut, settling between her thighs—she wants that again. Desperately.

"You don't have to," he objects weakly, but she can tell he's not opposed to the idea. She stops him before he can continue.

"I want to," she tells him firmly, shaking off her modesty and embarrassment. "We made a promise to stick together. I'm not leaving you again. Besides...people already think we're married. They already think we've—" She falters, flushing from the insinuation of what the whole of Panem already thinks they've done.

"Right," he agrees softly, his eyebrows furrowing as he's not quite able to meet her gaze. He continues to fold his clothes to put away, and after a moment of silence she moves to help him. His hand accidentally brushes against hers when she takes a shirt from him, and she has to stifle her smile.

* * *

Her mother isn't too happy with her new sleeping arrangements, and Katniss refrains from informing her of the many nights she spent wrapped in Peeta's arms on the trains. Mrs. Everdeen tries to lecture her on being safe, much like Effie had, cornering her as she packs some of her items from her family's compartment.

"Katniss, I know you're a smart girl, but I hope you're being..._safe_, with Peeta. There are options available in the hospital that I can get for you—"

Katniss slams the door in her face on her way out, burning with resentment.

But later, lying in Peeta's bed beside him, her skin tingling in the lingering trails his hands leave on her body, her stomach knotting with anticipation as he places the first tentative kiss on her lips, she concedes that her mother might have a valid concern.

She doesn't tell Peeta yet, but she approaches her mother the next day, appropriately chastised and embarrassed.

"I think I do need birth control," she tells her quietly, unable to stop the flush from heating her face. If her mother is surprised, she doesn't show it. She just nods her head resolutely.

"I'll take you to the hospital, then. We can get you a shot."

Her arm is still smarting hours later at the injection site as she eats lunch in the cafeteria, and she has to put her utensils down periodically to rub the area; her other hand is latched onto Peeta's. It's the first time he's been allowed into the cafeteria to eat. They sit with Finnick, Gale and Delly, who showed up at Peeta's hospital room a couple days after his arrival when she learned of his return. The girl is obnoxiously upbeat and chatty, and Katniss mostly tunes her out while she reminisces with Peeta over their school days. She's careful to avoid mentioning his family and any childhood memories involving his brothers or parents.

From the corner of her eye, Katniss watches Peeta. He's smiling and nodding at whatever memory Delly's sharing with him; he's handling his family's death relatively well, she thinks, at least compared to how distraught Katniss would be if Prim died. But Peeta never seemed that close to his family; he rarely talked about them with her, and Katniss never once saw them visiting him after the first games.

She's all he has left, really.

Impulsively, she reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. Surprised, he smiles at her and squeezes back, continuing his conversation with Delly. Katniss doesn't miss the hard look on Gale's face, but she ignores it. She's already wasted too much time feeling guilty.

"You don't remember that?" Delly's surprised exclamation pulls Katniss from her reverie, and she glances at Peeta's muddled expression. He shakes his head.

"I don't think so…"

Delly practically squeaks in protest. "We used to draw chalk animals outside the bakery all the time! Your dad would come out and tell us what the animals looked like if we didn't know—"

Both Katniss and Peeta stiffen at the mention of his father. Delly realizes her mistake too late and covers her mouth with a gasp. Katniss glowers at her. "He has amnesia, Delly. Don't push him," she hisses, though she immediately feels bad when she see the tears gleaming in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Delly, it's okay," Peeta interrupts, smiling tiredly. He looks at Katniss next. "It's fine. I'm okay."

Despite his reassurances, Katniss takes him back to his room after their meal, ignoring the schedule on her own arm. They've yet to reprimand her, and as the Mockingjay, she doubts they will. Peeta is more important than learning about nuclear history.

"You don't have to babysit me," he tells her wryly, sitting down on his bed. "I know you have other places to be."

She shrugs, lingering by the door uncertainly. "Maybe I'm not babysitting. Maybe I just want to be with you," she forces herself to be truthful. Divulging her feelings has always been hard.

He arches an eyebrow. "Yeah?" he asks, almost playfully, but there's a degree of doubt in his voice. Thinking of the telltale bruise on her arm, she moves closer to him, but she doesn't sit yet.

"Yeah," she replies simply, fiddling with her braid. He reaches up to grab her other hand, tugging lightly so she'll sit down next to him.

"Stop hovering, you're making me nervous," he says with a small chuckle, and her mouth stretches into a brief smile as she settles down beside him. Her skin burns under the pads of his fingers. She's distracted by the thought of their kisses from last night, and she misses the troubled look that passes over his face. "I'm sorry I'm having trouble remembering some things," he says hesitantly, and she blinks at him.

"It's okay," she assures him. "Don't apologize. You went through something none of us can understand...something traumatic. The doctors said it might be awhile before you remember everything. If at all. Maybe it's for the best that you can't," she offers, echoing her mother's sentiments. Peeta nods but doesn't look convinced.

"Yeah, maybe."

She just wants to take his mind off it. She trails her fingers up his arm, and he tilts his head to look at her questioningly. "Let's...talk about something else," she offers, embarrassment at her own ineptitude making her face capillaries explode with heat. "Or...not talk. Whatever."

She can't meet his eyes, but she can see the amusement on his face still. "What do you want to do then?" he asks, keeping his voice low. Her heart is pounding, and she forces herself to lean closer, her face angled down just inches from his.

"Um…" She doesn't know how to vocalize her desires, but Peeta is able to fill in the blanks. He tips her chin up, his breath warming her lips before he touches his mouth to hers. The kiss starts slowly, shyly, until the two grow more familiar and needy. Soon, he has her on her back tucked underneath him, his tongue probing her mouth. When he breaks away to explore her neck, she gasps for air. She begins to squirm as he sucks insistently on the skin under her jaw, an uncomfortable wetness gathering between her thighs. She can feel his hardness pressing against her hip, and she opens her eyes.

"I, uh...I got—I got a shot earlier today," she says, getting his attention. He lifts his head up, but she can tell he doesn't know what she means. "For...you know. To be safe."

He catches on then, his eyes going wide. "Oh," he breathes out, and she bites her lip, looking away.

"We don't...we don't have to do anything yet. Just...whenever. If you want, I mean," she rushes to add, embarrassed, but he smoothes her hair away from her face.

"I do want," he murmurs, his eyes growing dark. "We can go slow, though."

Smiling, she pulls his mouth back to hers for another heated kiss.

They spend the rest of the night exploring and fumbling, over clothes and then under, and when Peeta brings her to a surprising, shuddering orgasm with his fingers, she knows they won't be able to hold out for too long.

* * *

Katniss films a couple more propos for Plutarch and Cressida with Finnick. He's still distracted knowing Annie's in the Capitol, and Katniss can't help the twinges of guilt she feels over having Peeta with her, safe. Luckily, Fulvia comes up with a new propo series of in memoriam videos dedicated to the fallen tributes to spare Katniss and Finnick the brunt of filming for a while. So Katniss takes Finnick outside hunting with her and Gale a few times, hoping the fresh air will help him. She wishes there was water nearby; she remembers the lake back in District 12 and gets permission to take Finnick there, of course under the understanding that Cressida and her crew will be filming them for more footage. Finnick comes alive in the water, even with the heavily armed guards watching them from the shore, and she smiles as she treads water beside him. He looks refreshed.

Coin refused to let Peeta come along for the trip, no matter how much Katniss argued; she's eager to return to him once they leave Twelve, and she finds him in his room painting.

Or trying to.

He looks at her sheepishly as she studies the streaks of paint and squiggles on the canvas propped up on an easel. "I used to be able to do this, I _know _it," he says, tapping his brush on the edge of a jar of green paint. "I guess I lost it."

Katniss frowns. "Did you tell the doctors?"

Peeta nods and sighs. "They said this happens sometimes. They're confident it'll come back to me if I keep trying…" he trails off, lifting his brush to drag it across the canvas in an indecipherable design, but he halts when it becomes clear he's not sure what he's making and shakes his head. She tries to smile encouragingly, picking up another brush.

"Let me try." Dipping her brush in some yellow paint, she picks up where he left off, painstakingly depicting a sloppy rendering of a dandelion. When she finishes, she looks at him for approval. He squints at it critically and then smiles.

"Looks good," he tells her, and she looks away bashfully.

"Do you remember when we were 11, after you gave me the bread, the next day at school? I wanted to thank you. I tried to work up the courage to talk to you after school, but...I didn't know how. I looked at you, but you looked away, and then I saw a dandelion. Suddenly, I knew how to take care of me and Prim, how to feed us. But...I still always think of you when I see dandelions now," she admits, glancing back at his face.

He's still smiling at her, but there's a confusion clouding his eyes. "I remember the bread. Throwing it to you from the bakery. But...I don't remember the next day at school, I guess," he says, shaking his head.

She frowns again, troubled by his words. _I remember everything about you_. He told her that once. He remembered things about her better than she even could.

He looks sad suddenly. "I'm sorry," he whispers, setting his brush down to rub his forehead. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Her heart sinks, and she hurriedly drops her brush to wrap her arms around his neck. "It's okay, Peeta. I'll help you, okay? I'll help you remember," she murmurs against his neck. She begins pressing kisses to his jaw, and he lets out a shuddering breath, turning his head to easily coax her into a kiss. She sweeps her tongue into his mouth and nips at his lips, eliciting a soft groan from him; her inhibitions are forgotten as she pushes him down to his bed, determined to make him forget his worries for the moment.

His hands roam her body liberally, and she manages to tear her mouth from his long enough to work his shirt off over his head. She peppers wet kisses across his chest, and he threads his fingers through her hair to guide her lips back to his, rolling her onto her back on the small cot. He settles between her thighs, pressing his erection against her center, and she gasps. She begins gyrating involuntarily, and soon Peeta is thrusting between her thighs. She can feel the pleasure funneling between her legs as he rubs against her clitoris, and she can't stand it anymore.

"Peeta," she gasps. "I want—can we—?"

He freezes, his pants echoing her own. "You sure?" he asks uncertainly, and she nods eagerly, tugging off her own clothes. He gets his pants off, pausing momentarily to kick them off his prosthetic leg; his erection strains against the cotton fabric of his undershorts. Trembling, she leaves her underwear on as she waits for him to disrobe. She nearly swallows her tongue at the sight of his bare cock, protruding from a thatch of dirty blonde curls; she doesn't know what to do with it.

But then Peeta frees her of her bra, slipping her panties down her legs, and he sighs appreciatively at her naked form. She tries not to squirm under his gaze as it rakes over her, drinking her in. There's no time for embarrassment, however, as his hand drops between her thighs and finds her clitoris after a few fumbles. When she arches up with a moan, his mouth latches onto her breast, and he sucks on her nipple greedily.

It all feels too good; there are too many sensations, too many new feelings, she doesn't know how to begin to process them, especially when his fingers push inside her. "Peeta," she whimpers, and he repeats her name back to her. There's only one coherent thought in her mind at this point.

Has he done this before?

She has to fight herself, choking back the question. It's not worth asking, especially not if he can't remember. Or worse, if he _can _remember. It doesn't matter, she decides. She knew he was popular in school; she knew he had his fair share of admirers. He's here with her now.

"Now," she urges, and he stops his ministrations, looking up. His cheeks are flushed, his pupils dilated.

"You want me to...?"

She nods, opening her legs wider under him. His throat bobs with a hard swallow, but he moves into position, holding his cock in hand. It takes a little blind searching for him to find her entrance, and her breath hitches in her throat as he pushes into her, stretching her open. It hurts slightly, but it's not an unbearable pain. Peeta breathes out a gravely moan, and he stops when their hips are flush together. "Oh...Katniss…"

She lets out a breath, making some noise of agreement, and she closes her eyes to revel in the sensation. She's so full. "Peeta," she pleads after a moment, and he begins to move. His thrusts are halting at first as they get used to the feeling. He buries his face in the nook of her neck, and she holds onto his shoulders; soon their bodies are moving more frantically, and she's gasping into his ear.

He stops suddenly, grunting almost painfully. She can feel him pulsing as he spills himself inside her, and she has a momentary feeling of panic until she remembers the shot. She's protected.

"Sorry," he finally murmurs after a moment, pulling out of her, but she keeps him close to her while their breathing returns to normal.

"It was good," she assures him, but he's not satisfied until he makes her come, twice.

* * *

Katniss is surprised when Haymitch tracks her down during Reflection time, a rare moment she's not by Peeta's side. She's in her compartment with her mother and Prim; Katniss has been spending so much time with Peeta lately, she feels guilty for neglecting her sister. But Prim has kept herself busy in the hospital; she gushes to both of them about all the advanced training she's been receiving.

"What do you want?" Katniss asks him. The question isn't meant hostilely, but it comes out as so, anyway. Haymitch brushes it off.

"What, can't talk to my favorite Mockingjay?" he asks drolly, and she rolls her eyes. "How's the boy doing?"

She gives him a pointed look. "You can ask him yourself, you know."

Haymitch shrugs. "I have. Talked to him a little not long after his rescue. It's a little difficult, though; he's not quite right up here." At that, Haymitch taps his temple. Katniss isn't sure why, but she feels defensive for Peeta.

"He was tortured, Haymitch. Cut him some slack."

But the older man just shrugs. "Was he? Did that boy look in any way harmed to you?" he asks rhetorically. Katniss falters. "The last time we saw him on TV, he was looking pretty rough. But there didn't seem to be a scratch on him when they retrieved him. Weird, huh?"

She isn't following her mentor. "What are you trying to say, Haymitch?" she asks pointedly. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim glance between the two of them quietly.

He shrugs again. "I dunno. Something feels weird. Can't put my finger on it though. But when I talked to him, about breaking the victors out of the arena, having to leave him behind, he had no idea what I was referring to."

Katniss glares at him. "Well, isn't that good? Shouldn't you be happy? So you don't have to feel guilty about abandoning him?"

Haymitch is unfazed by her accusation. "You'd think. But it's odd how he can't remember certain things."

She furrows her brow. "The doctors said it was normal for what he's been through."

"Which was what?" he asks, exasperated. "Coin won't tell me anything about the conditions they found him in. Classified information, she says. Plutarch doesn't know anything, or so he claims. I can't track down any of the soldiers who were on the mission. Boggs has been kept in the dark, too, and he's Coin's right-hand man. The doctors won't disclose anything about his condition."

Katniss looks at her mother for help. Mrs. Everdeen sighs. "I wish they'd let me on his case, but they won't. I asked to see his files. I haven't dealt with anyone with such a unique case of amnesia; I was interested in learning more. But they keep telling me I don't have the clearance."

"You're one of the best healers here! You and Prim could probably do a better job helping him than their doctors!" Katniss argues, but Mrs. Everdeen doesn't have an answer for her.

Haymitch stands to leave. "I'm just saying. Something's not right here. I don't quite trust Coin." He leaves after that, and Katniss is left to stew on his words. She doesn't trust Coin either, but she brought Peeta back to her.

And that has to be enough for her.

* * *

Katniss doesn't do well with confrontation. Dealing with her problems head-on has never been her strong suit. She prefers to feign ignorance, to remain oblivious. Putting Haymitch's concerns out of her mind doesn't work the way she hopes it will, so she tries the next best thing: distraction.

And she distracts herself through sex.

They can barely keep their hands off each other in public; it takes everything in her to refrain from cornering him in the cafeteria or hospital or the elevator, and she doesn't hold back when they're alone in his room. She spent over a year denying herself this; she doesn't want to waste anymore time.

So Peeta doesn't resist when she mounts him on his cot, pulling his clothes off, and then her own, with little ceremony. With him sheathed inside her, she moves with caution as she adjusts to the new position, but then she's riding him with abandon, feeling feral and powerful. He concedes control, his hips bucking up into hers as his hands grope helplessly at her thighs and breasts. When she comes, she's only mildly aware of how loudly her shout echoes through his small compartment. Her orgasm milks his own out of him a few seconds later, and his strained cry makes her insides quiver.

"Peeta," she gasps, finally slumping forward bonelessly. He's breathing heavily, and she opens her eyes to smile at him. But he's staring up at the ceiling, glassy-eyed, his mouth slack. She narrows her eyes. "Peeta?" He still doesn't respond, though his chest moves with his breathing. She shakes his shoulder. Nothing. "Peeta!" she yells in his face, shaking him more roughly in her panic.

Finally, he blinks, his eyes coming back into focus as they settle on her face. "Katniss. What?" he asks, disoriented, resting his hands on her hips. She gawks at him.

"_What_? Where did you go right then? I was calling your name, and you wouldn't respond!"

His eyelids flutter rapidly, and his brow dips in confusion. "I...I don't know. I guess I zoned out after," he says weakly, trying to smile at her. She continues to stare at him, her worry etched on her face, and his face falls. He pulls her down to his chest. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to worry you. I'm fine. I'm just tired."

She buries her face against his chest, her conversation with Haymitch flooding her mind once again. So much for the distraction. "Peeta," she sighs, her voice muffled, but she doesn't know what else to say. Neither speaks for a while, eventually dozing off.

They're startled awake when ear-splitting sirens pierce the silence of the room, the lights flickering steadily in some sort of signal. Katniss recognizes this; it's the same alarm Coin sent out for the last bombing, the bombing after Peeta's last televised interview, before the rescue mission.

Is the Capitol attacking again?

Her question is answered a second later when a mechanical voice comes on the speaker, instructing all residents to report to the lower levels. _"This is not a drill."_

"What's going on?" Peeta asks, alarmed, as they struggle to put on their clothes. Katniss doesn't have to answer; a moment later, the door to his quarters flies open, and Boggs and another soldier appear.

"Soldier Everdeen, Civilian Mellark, follow us immediately," Boggs commands as the two sweep inside to herd them out. Katniss is just able to stuff her feet into her boots, but she stops to help Peeta get his own; he needs assistance with his prosthetic.

"Are we being attacked?" she yells over the sirens, and Boggs nods curtly. He snatches up Peeta's boots and forces them out of the room, clearly agitated.

"We don't have time for this—our systems detected missiles en route. They're half an hour out, at most. Hurry."

Katniss and Peeta don't speak as they follow the soldiers through the flood of people filtering from the upper levels downward. Boggs pushes through the crowd, the Mockingjay an obvious priority, and directs them to a secret-access elevator designated for military personnel only. Katniss grips Peeta's hand tightly, her heart thrumming in her throat. There are other soldiers with them, but they pour out of the elevator at stops before their own at the very bottom, opening to lead them out into a familiar cavern.

"You know where to go from here," Boggs tells her, and she nods. Compartment E. She doesn't need to ask where Peeta's supposed to report to. There's no question; he's staying with her. Boggs hands Peeta his boots before the elevator closes, and he slips them on before following behind Katniss as she weaves through the residents filling the room hurriedly. The sirens are quieter, but a cloud of panic cloaks the room, much like the last time but even more frantic as they dart to their designated areas.

She's relieved to find her mother and Prim already in their compartment.

"Katniss!" Prim cries and hugs her. "You made it. I was so worried."

"Boggs found us. There's not much time," she tells her, glancing at her mother. They got the damn cat this time, too. Prim hugs Peeta, and then they huddle on one of the bunks. She sees the Hawthornes across the way as Gale leads his family to their compartment, and Katniss shares a nod with her old friend, relieved to see them safe.

The missiles must have been closer than they thought because it doesn't take long for the first one to hit. The bunkers shudder violently as an explosion rips across the surface, a loud boom resonating in her core. Katniss holds Peeta and Prim tighter, squeezing her eyes shut as they hunker down to wait out the attack. She hopes all the residents above made it to safety in time.

It doesn't last as long as the last one, and the missiles hit in much quicker succession this time. They're only on lockdown for a little more than 24 hours before they're given the go-ahead to leave the bunkers.

There's a disturbance as they're trying to clear out of the lower levels, however. Another mechanical voice overhead instructs people to return to their living quarters, and minor chaos erupts as people debate whether that means their normal quarters or their bunkers. Mrs. Everdeen is certain the instructions are similar to Level Two drills they've had in the past, so she directs them to one of the elevators to head back up to the upper levels. The alarms are much less intrusive and deafening than the previous sirens, so Katniss is inclined to believe her; still, they have to fight against the mass of bodies that can't decide if it wants to stay in the bunkers or head up.

They've just returned to their floor when they run into Haymitch. He looks crazed and bedraggled, but his eyes flash when he spots Katniss. "You!" he barks, pointing at her, and she freezes. "Follow me, now!" She looks to Peeta, who is equally confused, but when Haymitch's gaze darts to him, the older man's face contorts so bizarrely, Katniss is almost afraid he's having a stroke.

"What do you need us for?" she demands defensively, but Haymitch shakes his head, grabbing her arm. He pushes Peeta toward Mrs. Everdeen and Prim, who clutches a mewling Buttercup protectively.

"Just you. Florence, take him and Prim back to your room." When no one moves fast enough for his liking, he snaps, "Do it now!" And he's dragging Katniss off before she can object. Her eyes follow Peeta and her family until they're out of sight, and then she tries to twist out of Haymitch's grip. He's stronger than he looks.

"What are you doing?!" she cries. "You're hurting me!" Is he drunk? She doesn't smell any booze on him, and she can't imagine how he'd get his hands on any alcohol in Thirteen, anyway.

"Sweetheart—" He stops himself and grits his teeth, shaking his head once again. "There's been a development. You need to see this. I doubt Coin wants you to, but—"

He doesn't say anything further, and Katniss is too mystified to continue arguing with him. What could have possibly happened during the bombing?

He takes her to the hospital floor, and they're greeted with even more commotion as nurses and soldiers run up and down the hallways, jostling the pair as Haymitch steers her to wherever they're going.

"What the hell is happening?" she wonders out loud. "Did someone get hurt?" She can't imagine what sort of emergency would necessitate this sort of chaos; maybe Coin or even Plutarch got injured in the bombing…

"Not quite," Haymitch bites out. After a moment, they find themselves standing outside a room full of doctors and military personnel screaming commands and questions at each other. Katniss recognizes Boggs on the outskirts of the gathering, and she thinks she sees a flash of Coin's silver hair through a glass window in a walled-off room to the side, but there's too many people in her way.

Haymitch begins shoving his way through the crowd; no doubt the soldiers are stronger than him, but they seem too bewildered to fight him off. Boggs spots them, however, and intervenes quickly. "Abernathy, she shouldn't be here—!"

Haymitch glowers at him. "You know damn well she deserves to see this."

They stare each other down, but Boggs relents, ushering them toward the center of the room. By then, Katniss' blood is rushing in her ears. What is going on? She has no idea what to expect, but she begins to fear the worst. Is Gale hurt? Finnick? Posy or Rory or Vick?

She pushes a doctor out of her way, and Haymitch releases her arm as she pulls up short in front of a bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his arms pinned to his sides as nurses poke him with needles and IVs, is a ghost.

No, not a ghost. A ghost is the remnants of someone dead.

But Peeta isn't dead.

He's back in her living quarters with her mother and sister.

So how could she be staring him in the face right at that moment? What the hell is this figment in front of her?

His blue eyes are as wild as his ash-blond hair, his pale skin marred by bruises and blood and scratches. Katniss tries to breathe, but she thinks she's forgotten how to. She can't even swallow; her heart feels like it's stuck in her throat. Her knees weaken dangerously. It's too much.

"Katniss," Haymitch begins warily, but at the sound of her name, the boy on the bed whips around in her direction, his eyes widening impossibly at the sight of her.

"_You!_" he hisses, his mouth curling in the nastiest snarl she's ever seen. Her whole body goes rigid, a cold sweat inflaming her skin. Black dots float before her vision, and she blacks out right as he lunges for her.

The last thing she's aware of is his fingers closing around her neck.

* * *

_Follow me on tumblr: **fuckingplebe**. I hope to have the second part up in a couple weeks at the latest._


	2. Chapter 2

_**a/n:** Wow. So, um. So sorry for the wait. This story has been a beast to get through, but that's a poor excuse for taking two months to update what was supposed to be a simple story for Prompts in Panem. The good news (or bad news, depending on how you look at it) is that because this chapter got so long and out of hand, I realized I needed to split the second half into two more parts, so there will be a third chapter. But then that will definitely be the end of this story. I sincerely hope it won't take me as long to update; my schedule isn't nearly as busy in the coming months as it has been the last few months._

_Thank you for being patient with me and for reading! And to those who've taken the time to review, thank you so much!_

* * *

Katniss is overcome with a strong sense of deja vu when she opens her eyes and sees Haymitch watching her. His face is pale, dark circles under his haunted eyes. His smile is humorless.

"You gotta stop sleepin' on the job, sweetheart."

She opens her mouth to speak, but her voice is scratchy and dry; her throat hurts, and she touches a shaky hand to the cold metal collar on her neck.

She remembers.

She wishes she didn't, but she remembers.

"How?" It's the only word she can squeak out. It's the only word she can find. She doesn't understand. She doesn't understand what's happening, how there can be _two _Peetas. How he could choke her.

_He._ Whoever _he_ is.

She just doesn't understand.

Haymitch sighs, leaning forward in his seat. "Well, it's...I'm still not sure I completely understand myself, but I finally got the full story out of Coin and Plutarch. Coin never sent a rescue mission to the Capitol to retrieve Peeta. She cloned him."

Katniss blinks uncomprehendingly. "Cloned?" she croaks, the word foreign to her.

"Plutarch had access to his DNA as head gamemaker. They collect samples from all the tributes before they are sent into the arena. How do you think they made the mutts of all the dead tributes in your last games?" Haymitch asks, and she closes her eyes, swallowing painfully as she recalls the glimmering eyes of Rue staring back at her from the face of that vicious beast. She knows the Capitol is capable of the most unimaginable atrocities, but she can't even fathom _this_…

"But...how...did…"

Haymitch's face twists, his lips curling into a sneer. He shakes his head. "Apparently, they've been experimenting with the cloning process for a while here, trying to increase their numbers. Some disease a while ago nearly wiped them out, and it left a lot of them infertile or sterile. They can't reproduce as quickly as Coin would like." He pauses for a moment, staring off at some unseen spot. "When Plutarch left the Capitol, he grabbed a lot of stuff he thought might be useful to their cause. I'm guessing that means they've got your DNA on file, too. Hell, maybe even mine still." He fixes her with a pointed look then.

She can't think about that. It's too much information to process. "So...you're telling me...the—the Peeta I—that we...who's been...the past few...that's...that's not..." She stops, the process of trying to speak a full sentence too difficult and exhausting.

Haymitch shakes his head solemnly. "That's not the real Peeta. The real Peeta is the one I brought you to the other day, the one who attacked you."

She feels sick to her stomach. "But...why...did he...?" She knows she sounds like a child; Haymitch is being unusually patient with her. It must be bad.

And she can tell by the darkness that clouds his eyes that it is. "They did something to him in the Capitol. I'm not entirely sure yet. They're still running tests on him. Looks like he's been extensively tortured, though. Coin said it's likely Snow used the bombing as a diversion tactic to drop Peeta off aboveground. Judging by the way he attacked you, it seems he was sent as a weapon to kill you," Haymitch bites out, then he rubs the back of his neck. "It's lucky Boggs was there to knock him out before he could do any irreparable harm to you."

Lucky. She doesn't feel lucky. Tears prick at the corner of her eyes, and she takes a gasping breath, only then realizing she'd stopped breathing. "Haymitch...how...is this...possible?" she chokes out, rolling down face-first into her pillow and squeezing her eyes shut. She feels lightheaded, and her neck aches from the bruised prints of Peeta's hands.

"Sweetheart, your guess is as good as mine," he says quietly. "Your ma is assisting with Peeta right now, trying to figure out more about his current condition. He's been isolated for now. ...So has the other one."

She feels a flash of horror, and she cranes her head to look at him. "Does...he know?" She doesn't know how to refer to _him_. The cloned Peeta. The Peeta she had sex with. The Peeta who didn't try to hurt her. The Peeta she...whom she…

She can't deal with this.

Haymitch stands up with a grunt. "No, I don't think he's been told anything yet. I don't think anyone's been to see him since the incident; they've got him in his room with armed guards stationed at his door. In fact, no one beyond this immediate circle knows what's going on. And Coin wants it kept that way for the time being." Awkwardly, Haymitch reaches a hand out to pat her shoulder. "Look. Just...get some rest. When we know more, we'll fill you in."

She doesn't respond, pulling the sheet up to cover her head. She hears him leave, and she spends the next hour just listening to the sound of her hot breaths, muffled by the cotton sheet, trying not to think about her two very present problems.

* * *

It doesn't take too long to deduce what's wrong with Peeta. Plutarch and her mother eventually come to visit her and fill her in on his diagnosis. She wants to hate Plutarch for his part in this all, to scream at him, but she's too tired, and it takes too much energy. So she just listens stoically to them as they explain.

"He's been hijacked," Plutarch says. At her blank stare, he elaborates, "You remember the tracker tracker venom they used in your first games, yes? I'm sure you're quite familiar with the effects: hallucinations, extreme paranoia, unable to differentiate between reality and your imagination. It appears Snow used just enough on Peeta over time to completely alter his memories of you and his perception of reality. He now perceives you as the enemy, as someone so detrimental to his existence that he must kill you. We think this is why Snow sent him back, to destroy you."

Katniss' stomach sinks. How can Peeta think of her like that? "I don't understand. How did they...just, _how_?" Her throat and larynx have healed for the most part, but the words are still hard to come by.

Her mother jumps in. "Our guess is that they used video of you from the games and the Victory Tour while simultaneously injecting him with venom so that the fear he felt became directly tied to your image or name," she says softly, and Katniss covers her face.

This can't be happening. To make Peeta hate her? Before, she might have wished for this, just to save him the misery of loving someone so unworthy, but now...now the thought cleaves her heart in two.

"What happens now?" she gasps out. Her chest feels tight, like it's caught in a vise. Plutarch smiles at her, though it's grim.

"That's still to be determined, but rest assured we're doing everything we can. This is just a bump in the road. Try not too worry too much, Katniss! We'll need you in working order for more propos soon—it's important that Snow sees that he has not defeated or broken the Mockingjay!"

He bursts out of the room after that, Katniss gawking dumbly after him. She feels a fiery anger roiling in her stomach, but it's immediately extinguished when she thinks about Peeta. She looks to her mother helplessly. "Mom...this is too much. How can they fix him? And—and what about...the other?" Her voice trembles, and her mother leans over to squeeze her hand. Suddenly, Katniss feels much like she did on the days she missed school during the trips to the coalmines, some of the only times she would allow herself the comfort of her mother's touch.

"I know. I can't imagine how overwhelming this is. But the hospital has a good staff. They've done some amazing things here—" She falters slightly, probably thinking of their latest _amazing_ accomplishment. "We'll think of something, okay? I'm going to work with Peeta personally. Not right away, though; right now they're relying on residents and staff here he doesn't know as to avoid triggering any freakouts from him. But we'll figure this out. As for...the other, he's still in isolation. I'm not sure they want to tell him anything yet. But...maybe it would do both of you some good to talk. I'm sure he's scared and confused right now."

Her mother presses a light kiss to her forehead before murmuring something about getting back to work, exiting her room.

Katniss mulls over her mother's suggestion, but she can't imagine what comfort she could provide the other Peeta. She's too scared herself, too confused—how can she look him in the face again, knowing the truth? He's not the real Peeta.

And the real Peeta wants to kill her.

Right now, she doesn't ever want to leave her bed.

* * *

No one's more surprised than she is to find herself outside Peeta—the real Peeta's—hospital room, where he's been safely quarantined for the past few days.

"_We're going to help him, Katniss, don't worry," Prim whispers one night in their shared bunk in their living quarters, curled around her bigger sister._

"_How are you going to do that?" Katniss asks, her voice muffled by the pillow._

_Prim brushes a lock of hair off of Katniss' forehead. "We're trying to hijack him back. Reverse his negative feelings toward you with injections of morphling."_

_Confused, Katniss lifts her head to look at Prim. "How's that going to help?"_

_Prim smiles slightly. "Well...I just thought, if Snow used fear-inducing chemicals in association with you, maybe we can do the opposite: use good-feeling chemicals while showing him video of you. The doctors said nothing like this has been attempted before, but...they're optimistic it could work, I think."_

_Katniss studies her little sister's face intently, her little sister who doesn't seem so little anymore. She seems smarter beyond her years now. In that moment, she feels like the younger of the two, desperate for reassurance from her wiser sister. "And what do you think? Do you think it could work?" she asks, trying to hedge the hope out of her voice._

_Prim's face grows serious. "I think...I think Peeta is strong. And I think he'll do everything he can to get back to you. We just have to be patient."_

Patience has never been one of Katniss' strong suit, though. Which is why she's come to see him. She has to see, has to know, if all this is hopeless…

Screwing up her courage, she taps the button to open the door and warily steps into the observation room. The doctors at the one-way mirror turn to look at her curiously. Just beyond them she can make out Peeta, strapped to his bed. Her tongue feels thick in her mouth.

"How is—" She thinks better of it and changes her line of questioning. "Can I see him? Talk to him maybe?"

One doctor, the taller, balding one, looks perturbed by her request. "He's still very unstable, Soldier Everdeen. We haven't been able to gauge any real progress with his treatment as of yet. I don't think seeing you would be conducive to his recovery."

She inhales sharply, the mild defiance she feels flaring inside her dying immediately. She peers beyond them at Peeta again. He seems twitchy, his body practically buzzing and vibrating off the bed despite his restraints. His eyes are unfocused, and his lips move like he's talking to himself. Occasionally, he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head.

She releases her breath. "I just...I need to see him, try to talk to him. He's being restrained, so if anything happens, I can just...leave the room." She keeps her voice firm, her face hard, hoping the doctors will know she means business. She has another thought. "Plutarch thought it might be a good test to see how he reacts to me now, if his reaction is as strong as it was the day he returned." It's a lie, but she's hoping they won't know that—or at least, that they'll be just as interested in the experiment.

The doctors share a look, and the shorter man with a full gray beard gives a curt nod of his head. The balding one motions her forward and pushes a few buttons on the control panel in front of him. A door to Peeta's interior room slides open, and Katniss feels all the nerves and anxiety knot into a tight ball in the pit of her stomach. She makes herself walk forward, and she's barely through the door when she feels Peeta's eyes land on her.

The cold heat of his stare causes the hair on the back of her neck to stand up, and she freezes automatically. A myriad of emotions flash across his face—anger? fear? loathing? She's sure it's all there, but there's confusion too, like he's not quite sure what he feels either.

But then his mouth pulls into a snarl. "Katniss," he spits at her, and she sees all the veins in his arms rise to the surface as he strains against his straps. His hands ball into tight fists.

She nearly chokes on her breath. "I—Peeta—" Why is she talking? She realizes immediately it's a mistake. His eyes narrow dangerously.

"Shut up! Shut your fucking mouth. You're a liar—I don't want to hear another fucking lie out of your mouth, you fucking bitch! Get away from me," he hisses. Her heart sinks.

"Peeta—" she tries again, against her better judgment, and he jerks so suddenly against his restraints, he rattles the frame.

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" he screams at her, spit flying, his face red, and she jumps back, as if thrown backward by the vehemence of his words.

Gasping, she spins on her heel and nearly trips through the door on her way out. The doctors are already scrambling, syringes in hand, and they push her out of the way as they rush to Peeta's side, ready to inject him with more morphling.

Katniss is out of the room in a flash; she's not even fully aware of her destination until she reaches the floor of Peeta's—the other Peeta's room. She can't deal with this; she needs _him_, needs the comfort and love he provides her, the comfort and love the _real _Peeta would have given her, used to give her, before Snow ruined him.

There are two guards stationed outside his room, but she ignores them until they block her path. "Restricted area. You don't have the clearance to be here," one barks at her.

She realizes she's shaking—with fear or rage, she's not sure. But she directs it at him, baring her teeth. "You can't stop me from seeing him," she growls, determined to push past them, but the soldiers shove her back and raise their guns.

"Soldier, I advise you to step down," he threatens, and she realizes it's not going to do her any good to argue. Without another word, she turns around and heads back to the elevator. She scours each floor until she finds whom she's looking for.

Boggs.

"I need to see him," she informs him flatly. He frowns.

"Who?"

She levels him with a meaningful glare. "Peeta—the _cloned one_. Your asshole lackeys won't let me into his room. I deserve to see him. He's been alone all this time—you can't keep him locked up and isolated like that!" She feels her hysteria rising; Boggs must sense it because his face softens. He doesn't budge for a moment, then he sighs and gently grabs her arm, steering her toward the elevator.

"Come on."

He's quiet while he leads her back to the clone's room until he stops suddenly. "You can see him, but you can't tell him anything. Not yet. Coin's orders. Do you understand?" he asks harshly. She nods, but he presses. "_Do_ you?"

"Yes, I get it," she snaps. She wouldn't know how to explain any of it to him, anyway.

At his door, Boggs exchanges a few terse words with the soldiers before getting them to stand down. He slaps his hand on the button to open the door and then waves her in. As she passes him, he tells her begrudgingly, "You have full access to this room, Soldier Everdeen."

Nodding her thanks, she steps into the room; there's a flash of blonde, and she tenses reflexively when a solid body launches itself at her, quickly pulling her into an embrace.

"Katniss! My god, I'm so relieved to see you!"

She relaxes immediately; Peeta always has that effect on her.

But he's not Peeta, not really.

But the other one, back in the hospital room...that's not really Peeta, either. Peeta could never hate her, but he does.

Isn't this one more like the Peeta she knows? In essence, isn't he _more _real?

Shaking the thoughts, she hugs him back and sighs. She feels better already, all the tension and anxiety melting from her limbs.

"What's going on? Where have you been? They wouldn't tell me anything!" he whispers against the top of her head. "I couldn't talk to anyone, couldn't see anyone. I feel like I've been in here for weeks. They only open the door to give me food. What the hell happened, Katniss?"

She finds the truth forming on the tip of her tongue, but she remembers her promise to Boggs. And, selfishly, she realizes she doesn't want him to know. As long as he thinks he's real, then nothing has to change between them. And she needs things to be back to how they were, or as close as possible.

Swallowing nervously, she pulls back some. His eyes are on her face instantly as he examines her, cupping her face, pushing her hair behind her ears. It was a bad idea to look him in the face; she's never been good at lying to him, at deceiving him. She averts her eyes. "I...They just needed to make sure we were safe after...after the bombing. You were captured once. I guess they didn't want to risk losing you again," she says weakly, risking a glance at him. His eyebrows are furrowed, but if he thinks she's lying, he doesn't let on. His thumb strokes her cheek absently.

"Why didn't they just tell me that?" he murmurs, almost to himself. She shrugs helplessly and, to end the line of questioning, she wraps her arms around his neck again. He hugs her back readily.

"I missed you," she tells him softly.

"God, I missed you too, Katniss. I was so worried about you. Haymitch dragged you off so suddenly, and then they locked me up down here. I don't know what I thought had happened to you, but I was scared."

Tears blur her vision, and she sucks her lip into her mouth to fight them. His worry for her is so palpable and raw, it takes her breath away. He loves her.

Real Peeta hates her.

The thought is so awful, she can't take it anymore. She retreats into safe, familiar territory: avoidance.

Angling her face toward his, she rests her hand on his opposite cheek. "I'm okay," she breathes before bringing his mouth to hers. It's just a quick brush of their lips together, but then she pulls him back for another kiss, this one much longer, much harsher as she funnels all her frustration and fear and need into it. It quickly grows heated, and she drops her hands to paw at his shirt and slacks. He gasps, his hands tightening on her hips.

"Katniss," he murmurs in the rare moment her lips leave his, but she doesn't want to talk. She needs this, needs the physical comfort he gives her, the distraction, the steadying force that he is. Otherwise, she feels like she's going to spin out of control.

"I missed you so much," she whispers before sweeping her tongue back into his mouth, pushing his shirt up. His arms go slack then, and he allows her to pull the garment off entirely, his face dipping back down to kiss her again. He grows more urgent, too, probably from being locked up alone for days. Her shirt comes off as well, briefly tangling around her hands and braid in his haste to tug it over her head. But she pushes him to the bed, and they collapse on top of it ungracefully. Straddling his lap, she forces him down onto his back and angles her hips back to grind down on his growing erection. They both moan, and Katniss tips her head back to let the sensation wash through her. Peeta grabs ahold of her waist and pulls her down on his cock harder as he begins thrusting up between her thighs; his breathing grows more ragged, and she's suddenly worried he's going to come already.

Abruptly, she rolls off of him and onto her back beside him, tucked against the wall, and she hurriedly begins stripping out of her pants. He watches her dumbly as she struggles to get her pants and boots off, kicking them off the edge of the bed. "Peeta, I need you," she begs, lifting her hips to shimmy out of her underwear, and that spurs him into action. He gets his pants and underwear off with a little more ease, and she opens her legs to him when he moves on top of her. His face is flushed, and he positions himself with certainty until the moment his cock brushes against her folds and she releases a shaky, expectant moan. He glances up at the door warily then, probably worried about the guards overhearing them, but she doesn't care.

"Peeta, please," she demands, already reaching down to grab his cock and push the tip through her folds. His nostrils flare, and he takes over, pushing into her; she's not wet enough, so it takes him a little effort, pulling out and surging his hips forward to work his cock inside her. Once he's there, she plants her feet on the bed and rocks her hips to encourage his movements. He exhales sharply, resting back on his knees so he can thrust into her. Closing her eyes, she groans when he pulls the flimsy cup of her bra down and plucks teasingly at her nipple. She can feel herself getting wetter, making the pistoning of his cock in and out of her easier. His mouth descends on her breast next, his tongue bathing it generously before he sucks it between his lips. Her hips buck upward, and she fists her hands in his hair.

He's moving too slow though; she needs to be fucked harder, with an urgency, so she's not thinking about anything else. Because now her mind's drifting back to _Peeta_, and how much he hates her, and how he would never be this gentle with her, not now, not when he wants to hurt her so badly.

"P-Peeta," she grunts pleadingly, trying to drive her hips up against his faster, but he seems content with lavishing his slow attention on her breasts. Frustrated, she pushes him back, using her knees to distance his pelvis away from hers. He gapes at her in confusion when his cock slips out of her, but she twists onto her stomach underneath him awkwardly. "Like this—let's do it like this," she urges him, wriggling her ass a little.

"I…" He fumbles for his words before he parts her thighs with his knees to settle down between them, and his hand fumbles at the cleft of her ass before he gets himself positioned, pushing his cock back into her. She sighs with him and tries to arch her back some so he'll have an easier time fucking her. He slips out a couple times until he finds the best angle, and then he's moving steadily.

"Harder, please, Peeta," she pleads, wedging her hand between her body and the mattress to seek out her clit. He falters slightly.

"I can do that for you," he gasps, but she shakes her head against the pillow.

"No, just—just fuck me, _hard_, please." She cries out in relief the moment her fingertips begin rubbing circles on the swollen nub at the apex of her thighs. Peeta grunts, shifting his weight so it's resting on his right forearm beside her head. His other hand closes around her left hip, and then suddenly he's fucking her just right, his pelvis slamming against her ass as he pushes his cock inside her as deep and as fast as he can. He rests his forehead on her shoulder, and she shudders as his warm breath skitters down her spine with his gasping pants. She rubs her clit furiously, burying her face in the pillow to stifle her increasingly insistent moans, and her muscles tighten with the rush of her climax. Her wail is thankfully muffled, and she spasms underneath him as she comes, her walls fluttering around his cock.

"Fuck, fuck," he chants and slows immediately, pushing her down into the bed with his hips as his own orgasm crests; she can feel the pulsing of his cock against her walls even through the ebbing vibrations of her release, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

She's surprised to feel tears in her eyes, dispersing against her cheeks and into the pillow as the cotton material absorbs the moisture rapidly. Her wheezes quickly dissipate into choking hiccups as she tries to fight back the sobs, but it's no use. Peeta tenses on top of her and quickly pulls out.

"Katniss?" he asks, alarmed. "Did I hurt you? What's wrong?"

She shakes her head fiercely and pulls her hand up to swipe at her tears, cringing slightly when she manages to smear her own arousal across her cheeks. "No, you didn't, I'm sorry—I just, I'm just overwhelmed, and it was just, it felt so good, and I guess—" Her voice breaks because she's not sure what is happening.

Or, rather, she does, but she doesn't want to think about it. She hiccups again but shakes her head. "I'm fine. I'm sorry. It's not you. I'm just...I'm wound tight. But I'm happy." She tries to smile at him over her shoulder, though she knows it's a watery one. He still looks concerned, so she rolls onto her back underneath him and pulls him down to her in a hug, tucking her face against the crook of his neck. "Just hold me, please?"

He doesn't hesitate then, wrapping her in his arms; he moves onto his side so he's not crushing her. As he strokes her hair, she feels the tears well up again, and she just lets him cradle her while she cries.

* * *

There are only a select few, beyond the doctors and nurses, who know about the situation, Gale and Finnick being among the informed. When Gale learns that she is still spending time with the cloned Peeta, he is livid.

"Is that wise?" he asks during one of their meals in the cafeteria, his voice sharp.

"I'm not really concerned about what's wise or not, Gale," she tells him tightly, and he shakes his head. Finnick watches them with barely concealed amusement as he eats his turnips.

"He's not _real_, Katniss."

She glares at him. "He certainly feels real to me," she retorts, knowing she's pushing him when she sees his jaw tighten. He looks away at that, and Finnick lets a slow grin slip out before taking a sip of his water. She's too agitated to share in his amusement, however.

With a sigh, Gale scrubs a hand over his face before turning back to her. "What do you think is going to happen to him, huh? There can't be two Peetas, Katniss. And if he—the other one—gets better, then what are you going to do?" She doesn't have an answer because she truly doesn't know; she hasn't had much hope that Peeta will recover, so she hasn't allowed herself to think about the possibility. When she doesn't answer, Gale huffs. "It's fucked up, Katniss."

With that, he shoves his tray away from him, barely having touched his food, and storms out of the cafeteria, probably retreating to the Weapons Room to strategize some more with Beetee.

Finnick smiles widely, quirking an eyebrow at her as he slides Gale's tray between the two of them. "Look at all this extra food, just for the two of us. Quick, before they see us and take it away."

She's suddenly lost her appetite, though, and when Finnick offers her an unappetizing-looking dumpling, she refuses it. He just shrugs and happily plops it in his mouth. Gale's words are ringing in her head still: _If he gets better, then what are you going to do?_

"Finnick, what would you do if—if it were Annie?" she blurts out, and he freezes. "I mean, if Annie had been the one...cloned. And if she were sent back in the same state as Peeta? What would you do?"

Finnick's entire demeanor changes at her question, and she immediately feels horrible, but she knows in the past this has been what bonded them, what Finnick opened up about. He shakes his head, smiling sadly. "I don't know. I almost wish it were her. At least then she'd be back and away from Snow. And if she hated me...she might be safer for it."

Katniss drops her head into her hand and releases a shaky breath. "Yeah," she concurs weakly. Because isn't that what she used to think, what she used to want for Peeta? It would be better for him if he hated her, she always thought. But she just didn't anticipate it hurting so much.

"I'd probably do the same thing," Finnick adds a moment later, quieter. She glances up at him. "What you're doing. I'd do the same. Because I'm selfish. I wouldn't be able to let her go either."

Katniss just nods, closing her eyes. She always knew she and Finnick were a lot alike.

* * *

Even though she doesn't ask, she gets updates over the next couple of weeks, from Prim and Haymitch and even Plutarch.

"_Good news, Katniss!" Plutarch tells her when he tracks her down between her scheduled classes. "We've almost got him convinced you're not a mutt! And he's allowed to feed himself now!"_

Prim is more clinical in her assessment but still optimistic.

"_He seems to be responding better to the videos they show him," Prim whispers to her encouragingly one night in their room. "He's able to have lucid conversations with me and Mom without anything triggering him."_

Katniss knows Haymitch will level with her more.

"_He watched the video from the first games where you told him the story about Prim and the goat," he tells her solemnly._

"_How did he respond? Did he get angry?" she asks, and his mouth pulls into a grimace._

"_No, not...angry."_

"_That's better then, isn't it?" she asks hopefully._

_Haymitch shakes his head. "If you consider abject confusion better. He went into a catatonic state afterwards for about two hours. When he came to, all he asked about was the goat."_

Katniss doesn't have any hope that they'll be able to fix whatever's wrong with him; she tries not to think about it, losing herself in the clone's company. Sometimes, she forgets he's the cloned one, the _other_. He's eventually allowed out of his room, since Coin is worried the rest of the District 13 population will become suspicious if Peeta doesn't make an occasional appearance. She tries to act normal around him. Finnick is welcoming to him, but Gale generally refuses to acknowledge his presence. She's grateful that Peeta seems indifferent to the other man's snubbing. Gale hasn't been very accommodating since his rescue, anyway.

She and Peeta are on their way back to his room when Haymitch stops her. "I need to talk to you," he tells her directly, leveling her with a meaningful look. Instantly, she knows what it's about. Swallowing thickly, she tries to smile at Peeta.

"I'll see you later tonight, okay?" He just nods, kissing her cheek before releasing her hand. When he's out of sight, she turns to Haymitch expectantly, folding her arms over her stomach. "What is this about?"

He lifts his eyebrows at her. "He wants to see you."

His words suck the air out of her. "What?" she breathes, her mouth parting in shock.

"Asked for you specifically," he says, nodding his head over his shoulder. "Come on." Her head is swimming as she follows him down a few floors to the wing of the hospital Peeta is being kept. Doctors and nurses are waiting when he leads her into the room, clipboards in hand. Even her mother is there. Katniss glances at the one-way mirror, her brow creasing when she sees that Peeta is strapped to the bed, much like he was the last time she visited him.

"Why is he restrained? I thought you said—"

"We have no idea how he's going to react to you, sweetheart. Just a precaution," Haymitch tells her, then he gestures her toward the door. "We'll be out here listening."

Tugging nervously at her braid, she shuffles through the door the moment they open it for her. Like before, Peeta's eyes are on her immediately. There's a coldness to his stare, an apathy that tightens his face, but the blues of his eyes are more focused, less deranged, less hostile.

But there's still some disgust there as he takes her in, and she can't help the clenching sensation in her heart and stomach. Steeling her nerves, she forces herself to stand up straight and pushes her shoulders back. "Haymitch said you wanted to see me."

The skin under his right eye twitches. "To look at you, for starters."

She holds her arms out to her sides. "Didn't get a good enough look the other day when you were screaming at me?" she asks drily. She doesn't know why she's antagonizing him. She's sure Haymitch is cursing her on the other side of the mirror.

Peeta narrows his eyes. "You're not very nice, are you?" he says rhetorically, then he smirks a little. "Not particularly pretty, either."

She bristles at his insult; it stings more than she wishes. "This coming from the guy who called me a lying bitch," she spits at him, self-consciously crossing her arms over her chest. "You don't look too hot yourself right now."

He just shakes his head. "You're something else, aren't you? To say that to me after all I've been through."

She glares at him, flaring her nostrils in defiance. "Yeah, well, we've all been through some shit." Suddenly, she feels tired and sick to her stomach. She can't deal with him right now. "Look, I'm not feeling too well right now. I'm gonna go."

She turns to leave, and he calls after her. "Can't even afford me the decency of a face-to-face conversation? I guess I'm not surprised."

Gritting her teeth, she ignores him and storms out of the room. No one stops her, not even Haymitch.

Peeta's right, of course. She's too much of a coward to continue their conversation. The way he looks at her now...like he finally sees her for who she really is: Manipulative. Untrustworthy. Selfish. Deadly.

She absolutely hates him for it.

* * *

Coin calls a strategy meeting a few days later; only a select few are invited, including Katniss, Haymitch, Finnick, Plutarch, Boggs, Beetee and Gale. Just the sight of the silver-haired woman makes Katniss' blood boil. Who is she to so callously devise a plan to clone someone else and pass it off as the real deal? It shows such a complete disregard for others, and Katniss still has yet to hear Coin apologize or offer any sort of explanation from her end.

She simmers quietly in her chair in the Command Center, curious as to what Coin could possibly have to say right now.

It's not at all what she expects.

"We need to film some more propos so Snow knows he hasn't defeated the resistance or the Mockingjay." She lets that sink in before adding, "And we're going to use Peeta in the videos as well."

There's a collective intake of breath as the shock of her statement settles around the table—and then a brief moment of confusion as they all wonder: _Which one? _Katniss is too dumbfounded to even process her thoughts.

Sensing their question, Coin replies, "The clone. Peeta is still too unstable. We want Snow to think his attack had no effect on us, that we haven't been rattled. So we will use the clone in the propos."

There is grumbling around the table, and Katniss blanches as Coin's words sink in. "You can't be serious," she whispers, but Coin isn't fazed by her question.

"I'm very serious, Soldier Everdeen. It's not up for discussion. We'll start filming the new propos tomorrow."

Katniss blinks rapidly in response, aghast. "Not up for discussion? I don't have to do a damn thing you say if I don't want to!" she snaps. Coin's eyes harden.

"Let me remind you that you agreed to be the Mockingjay. I upheld my end of the bargain. You need to as well."

"You're not the one who brought Peeta back!" Katniss yells. "You cloned him, and you were content to let the real Peeta—and the others—die in the Capitol!"

Coin glowers at her. "I believe my end of the bargain was that I wouldn't try Peeta for treason. And I haven't; he's been fully pardoned, even though he tried to kill you. I've upheld every other facet of the deal," she tells her coolly, and Katniss snaps her mouth closed, grinding her teeth together. She's right, though; she can't argue that Coin hasn't fulfilled her promises, however unsavory her methods.

Plutarch leans forward, his voice a little softer than Coin's. "We need to boost morale around here, Katniss. We've got soldiers close to taking District 2 right now, but they're in a stalemate. If we distract Snow and his forces while encouraging our soldiers, we might be able to take them down in Two. And then it's on to the Capitol. We're so close to winning this war," he tells her earnestly.

Wearily, Katniss glances around the table at the others. Their faces are solemn, but they offer her no guidance. Haymitch looks more perturbed than the rest, but he stays quiet too, his eyes trained on the table as if he's deep in thought. Shaking her head, she drops her face into her hands. "Fine," she grunts. She hears Plutarch breathe a sigh of relief.

"Good," Coin barks before dismissing everyone. "Cressida will get up with you and the clone tomorrow."'

The clone. There's something about the way Coin uses the word that makes Katniss' hackles rise. She shoots Coin a nasty glare before pushing away from the table and stalking out of the room. She doesn't get far before she changes her mind and turns back around, searching for Haymitch. She ignores the others as they filter out of the Command Center, and when her former mentor meets her eyes, she raises her eyebrows at him. Shaking his head, he then nods for her to follow him; she does, trailing him as he leads her into a supply closet for more privacy. It's the same one she hid in after Peeta's first Capitol appearance, the one where she decided to become the Mockingjay.

"Talk," he tells her gruffly once the door is shut, and she widens her eyes at him.

"You and the rest of them are just going to let Coin do these things with no objection?" she accuses incredulously.

He shrugs. "She's the one calling the shots here. Not my jurisdiction."

Katniss grits her teeth. "But it's about Peeta. I thought he _was _your concern—or did you ever care about him at all?" She knows she's being unnecessarily cruel, but she's too angry, too frustrated. Haymitch narrows his eyes.

"Now, listen here, girl—"

"I don't get how you can just sit back and let her make these decisions and use Peet—_him_ like this!"

His face twists into something wry. "As far as I can see, it's not much different than what you're doing to him, sweetheart."

She recoils as if slapped, her mouth dropping. "I'm not _using _him—" Her words catch in her throat because isn't she? Isn't that exactly what she's doing, using the clone to distract her from the situation with the real Peeta?

Haymitch just shakes his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You should tell him. The clone. You should tell him what's going on. He should know everything," he says, and she stares at him helplessly.

"But...Coin said I can't—"

He interrupts her with a snort. "And since when have you cared about doing what she says?" With that, he twists the handle and flings the door open. He gives her one last look over his shoulder. "You should tell him," he repeats simply before stepping out, closing the door and enclosing her in the darkness again.

Katniss stares at the door for a while before sinking down to the floor where she wraps her arms around her knees. How is she supposed to tell him? What is she supposed to say, exactly? _You're a clone of someone else, Peeta. Coin only created you as a political ploy. You're not real._

She can't tell him. She just can't.

* * *

Katniss shows up for the propo as she agreed, Peeta by her side. Despite Haymitch's insistence, she doesn't inform him about the situation. She almost convinces herself that it's more for his benefit than her own.

Almost.

Cressida has them walk through the damage done on the surface from the bombs, weaving through rubble and cleaning crews as they survey the damage and hold hands. But all she can think about is: _Where did they find Peeta? Was it here, by these demolished steps? Where did Snow dump him? Was he frightened and confused at that point? Was he even conscious? _

She's suddenly all too aware of Peeta's hand in hers, the skin of their palms slickening with sweat, and she has to shake him off and swipe a hand across her damp forehead. Cressida tells the cameramen to stop filming. "Sorry," Katniss mumbles, trying to offer everyone an apologetic smile, but it feels like a grimace. She's outside, but she suddenly feels stifled.

"I think we've got enough footage for a brief TV spot, anyway," Cressida informs her, gesturing for the crew to pack it in. "Thanks, you two. We're done for today."

Katniss and Peeta make their way back inside. Her stomach twists more with every footstep that resounds in her head. "I'm not feeling well," she finally tells him, pulling up short. She just wants to go back to her bed and curl up under her covers, but he's not letting her duck out that easily.

"What's wrong?" he asks, concerned.

"Nothing, I just—I wanna lie down," she says weakly.

"Okay. Do you want me to go with you?" he asks, and she shakes her head frantically.

"No!" she yells, but at his confused look, she backtracks. "I mean, yes. I...don't know."

His brow furrows. "Katniss, what's going on?"

Sighing, she glances around the otherwise empty hallway. She recalls Haymitch's advice to her: _You need to tell him_. The words are rising in her throat like bile, and she closes her eyes for a moment. When she opens them, he fills her vision entirely, having moved closer; he watches her expectantly.

"Peeta," she murmurs, her mouth dry like it's thick with cotton. She tries to swallow. "Peeta, I...I have to tell you something."

He lifts his eyebrows as he waits. _Just tell him,_ she tells herself. Quickly. Like a bandage.

"You're not real!" she blurts. He blinks before his face twists in confusion.

"Huh?"

Her lips part wordlessly as she gestures at him, words escaping her as she struggles to explain. "You—I mean you're not _real_. You're not...you're not Peeta. I mean, you are, but Coin—Coin had you cloned. Well, she had _Peeta _cloned. Because—because he was in the Capitol; he'd been captured by Snow after the games. So she cloned him. And you're...you're the clone."

The jumbled explanation rushes out of her, and she holds her breath when she finishes, watching his face for his reaction. But it's locked in an uncomprehending expression as he tries to make sense of her words. Finally, he breathes out a word: "_What?_"

Katniss licks her lips and tugs on her braid. "I'm sorry, Peeta. I—I didn't know how to tell you, and they didn't want me to tell you, but then I realized that I _needed _to tell you…"

He laughs suddenly, startling her. "Katniss, this is—you're not making any sense. Is this some kind of joke? Are you and Finnick trying to pull one over me? This is insane."

She just stares at him, her eyes wide, and gradually his face falls the longer the silence stretches. He blinks rapidly, his nostrils flaring as he takes a sharp breath. "This is insane," he repeats, looking away. His eyes dart around the hallway. "I don't...I don't understand what you're telling me. A _what_? A clone? I'm a _clone_? Of—of someone else? How? How is that even possible?"

There's a tinge of hysteria to his voice that scares her. "I guess—I guess Plutarch helped with the process, with your—Peeta's DNA and—"

"This is bullshit!" he explodes suddenly, and she shrinks away. His hands fly up to his head where he tugs on his hair. He laughs again in disbelief, but his face is humorless, his eyes and mouth bearing evidence of the horror making its way through his system. "No, I—no, no. No fucking way. This is—no! This can't be real!"

"Peeta—"

"No! I need to talk to Coin! Take me to Coin! I want her to tell me this, to my face!" He turns away without a response from her, but he flails helplessly as he twists in different directions, unsure where to go. "Tell me where she is!"

Katniss flies into action. "I—I'm not sure, but I'm sure we can ask someone…" she mumbles, hurriedly scampering down the hallway until they find a soldier in uniform. "We need to speak to Coin," she tells her urgently, but the woman just looks at her, flabbergasted.

"I don't—I'm not sure where she is at the moment."

"Then Boggs!" Katniss snaps. "Do you know where he is?"

The soldier hesitates for a moment, her gaze drifting between the two agitated teenagers before she nods. "Yeah, I think he's in Weapons."

Katniss and Peeta follow her down to Weapons, where they find Boggs talking to Beetee and a couple other scientists. When Boggs looks at them, his face hardens, and he strides toward them purposefully to grab Katniss' arm, pulling her away from Peeta.

"What's going on?"

She looks at him imploringly. "He knows."

Boggs narrows his eyes. "You had direct orders not to tell him, Everdeen—"

"He had to know!" she insists, her voice rising before she could stop herself. "You can't pretend there's nothing going on here. He has a right to know! Both of them do. He wants to talk to Coin himself."

Boggs pinches the bridge of his nose, hard, then shakes his head. "This is going to come down on me, you realize that, right?"

For a moment, she's ashamed. "I'm sorry, but...look at him," she says, gesturing to Peeta, who is pacing maniacally. "Coin can't do this to him, to either of them. To any of us. We have a right to know. She needs to tell him herself what's going on."

He sighs, something like "Yeah" slipping out with his exhale, but then he clears his throat. "Hold on." He steps away for a moment to speak into his communicuff. After he receives a response, he turns back to her. "Follow me then."

Dutifully, Boggs takes them down a few more levels on the elevator to an area Katniss has never been before. She realizes it must be where Coin stays, where she conducts her business; Boggs has to use a special key in the elevator to access the level.

Coin meets them in the hallway, the door to whatever lies behind her sliding shut as they stop before her. Her face is stern as her eyes flit between all their faces. "What is it? I'm extremely busy."

"Soldier Everdeen and Civilian Mellark wished to speak with you," Boggs informs her, stepping aside. Not for the first time, Katniss is met with the older woman's cold stare, but Peeta speaks first, taking a step toward Coin.

"What am I?" he demands, one hand splayed across his chest as he clutches at his shirt.

Coin barely blinks as she acknowledges him. Her response is almost dismissive. "You're a clone, a genetically identical copy of Peeta Mellark, former District 12 resident and victor of the 74th Hunger Games."

Katniss is stunned by her bluntness, as is Peeta. His mouth gapes open as he digests her words, and then he exhales a puff of air, his body deflating. "How could you do that?" he accuses, and Coin just stares at him.

"It's a complicated procedure, certainly, but not a new one around here. We've been perfecting it over the years. You're not the first clone, but you might be the most successful one yet."

Katniss' face grows hot with fury. "He's not asking _how_ you did it, but how you could even _think _it was an acceptable action to take!" she snaps, and Coin glares at her.

"You seemed satisfied with the clone only weeks ago, if memory serves me correctly, soldier," she replies coolly, and Katniss grits her teeth, shame coursing through her body. Coin continues, and her tone is practically flippant, "It's simple. We needed Mellark in order for you to do your job duties. Snow had Mellark. We couldn't risk our already limited forces with a surely suicide mission into the Capitol. So we cloned him instead."

"How can you be so casual about this?!" Katniss yells, and she glances at Boggs. He looks away. "How can you deceive people like this? It's not right what you're doing here!"

Coin just shook her head. "I don't have time for a temper tantrum—"

"You know it's not right—that's why you didn't want him to know! That's why you didn't want me to tell him," Katniss spits at her, clenching her fists at her sides. She wants to rip Coin's face off; maybe then she'll get a reaction out of her otherwise stone-cold demeanor. It's absolutely infuriating.

"Because the presence of both of them created a problem that frankly I don't have the time to deal with. We're fighting a war right now," Coin responds coldly, but then the ghost of a smile pulls at her mouth. "But, actually, I'm beginning to see the benefits of having two Mellarks now. If one can't perform, we can use the other. It's a huge tactical advantage for us—Snow doesn't even realize the gift he's given us."

Katniss is rendered speechless by her heartlessness. How can she be so calculating? Katniss looks to Peeta, who's just staring at the ground now. Boggs won't look at her either. She swallows thickly. "This is—it's wrong. There are—there are lines you can't cross—"

"I won't be scolded by a teenager," Coin interjects harshly, leveling her with a steely glare. "You know nothing of war, soldier. You know nothing of how to win a war, so you don't get to read me the riot act about right and wrong. You're dismissed. Boggs, take them back up." With that, she disappears behind the door. They're all silent until Boggs sighs softly, and he touches her elbow slightly to lead her away, but she jerks away from him. She thought she could trust him, thought he was better than Coin, that he was on their side—but he didn't even speak up, he didn't object to anything; clearly, she was wrong.

Boggs seems wounded at her rejection, but the look passes quickly, and he straightens up. "Come on," he says gruffly, stalking toward the elevator. Katniss reluctantly follows him but stops when she realizes Peeta hasn't budged.

"Peeta," she says tentatively, and she pulls on his arm. He stumbles slightly and allows her to lead him to the elevator. He moves listlessly, but when the elevator doors shut, he shakes off her hand and avoids her stare.

She tries again when they're back on their floor, Boggs returning to the Weapons Room. "Peeta—"

"Don't," he grits out, holding his hand up. "I...I can't. You lied to me. I can't. This is too much right now. Just...leave me the hell alone."

He shuffles away, back to his room. Her heart sinks into her stomach with each step he takes. She knows she deserves his rejection, but it hurts all the same.

* * *

_I hope that wasn't too terribly boring! Follow me on tumblr: **fuckingplebe**._


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